


A Candlenights Carol

by pixiePique



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angus dies but then it's fixed, Broken Engagement, Candlenights, Declarations Of Love, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Kisses, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Reaper Barry - Freeform, Reunions, Revenge, Romance, Sad, Siblings, Taako gets read for filth, reaper lup, sad stuff, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-09-21 16:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiePique/pseuds/pixiePique
Summary: A Balance Arc Christmas Carol! Coming at you just in time for the inscrutable Candlenights- maybe. We never truly know when it will come.Starring:Taako as ScroogeLup and Barry as the MarleysMagnus and Julia as Fred and ClaraCarey and Killian as the Charity CollectorsIstus as the Ghost of Candlenights PastMerle as the Ghost of Candlenights PresentRaven Queen as the Ghost of Candlenights Yet to ComeLucretia as Bob CratchitDavenport as Mrs. CratchitAngus as Tiny TimMavis, Mookie, June, and Keats as the Cratchit ChildrenKravitz as BelleAvi, Johann, N0-3113 and Sloane as PartygoersAnd Garfield the Deals Warlock as Fezziwig





	1. Everything Is Perfectly Fine

They were dead to begin with.

His sister and her husband had been dead for a long time, even before they were out of his life forever, and his ex-boyfriend for even longer than that. 

Everything was perfectly fine.

Taako raised a hand and the huge stack of gold coins he’d been counting and recounting for the last hour flew through the air in a glittering arc and settled into a velvet-lined drawer with a satisfying series of clinks. His silk robes shimmered atop the floorboards as he made his way to answer the door.

“Taako!”

Magnus. The son of a now-deceased business partner of his, his godson and honorary nephew. He was just twenty-four in september, and although Taako had been there to hold him the night he was born, they were sort of the same age, he supposed, 250 being widely called the elvish twenties.

“Magnus,” he allowed him in, closing the door against the cold. Not that it was much warmer inside his frigid little office. Lucretia never took off her coat or gloves, and he’d repeatedly seen her fingers turn pale before she stuck them in her mouth in a desperate attempt to warm them. He didn’t mind. Too much heat was bad for the pores.

“Merry Candlenights, Taako!” Magnus settled the wreath he’d been carrying on a nearby coat hook and hopped over to Taako’s desk, where the wizard had draped himself miserably into his chair.

“Merry Candlenights,” Taako scoffed. “Ain’t nothing merry about it, kemosabe.”

“There’s plenty to be merry about, whether you like it or not.” Magnus grinned, his red scarf bringing out the rosiness in his cheeks, a sharp contrast to Taako’s usual malnourished pallor. “I don’t understand why you’re so determined to be a big grump all the time.”

“I am a curmudgeon,” Taako corrected. “I don’t understand how you can be so happy. You’re poor as shit.”

“And you’re rich as shit!” Magnus pointed accusatorily at Taako, the effect somewhat ruined by the genuine smile that seemed to always be plastered on his face. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so fucking annoying. “So why are you so fucking angry all the time?”

“Listen, my man, I don’t stop you from celebrating in your own way. All I ask is that you don’t stop me from celebrating in mine.”

“But you don’t celebrate at all!” Magnus was now draping various pieces furniture with tinsel, probably improvising due to the lack of a candlenights tree. Where did he even get that? Did he stuff his pockets with it? “It’s unacceptable.”

The door opened again, Taako jumping. His fingers were still twitching, aching to clean up the garbage Magnus was tossing everywhere. “What?” he shouted.

He quieted right down when a towering orc walked in, followed by a huge dragonborn, although still quite small for their race, if Taako remembered correctly.

“Excuse me,” the dragonborn piped up in a high, kind voice that didn’t at all match her tough exterior. “We are taking donations for the candlenights season. Do you have a minute?” Her orc companion shook the box a couple times to make the coins jangle, looking extremely bored. 

Magnus grinned, and Taako relaxed as he finally stuffed the remaining tinsel back in his pocket. “A lovely idea!” Magnus turned back to Taako. “Well, Taako, I just came to invite you to candlenights dinner with me and Jules.” He pressed on despite Taako’s annoyed huff. “It’s tomorrow at six o’ clock, I’m pretty sure you already have our address. Now, I will make my donation,” he turned to the two behind him, rooting through his pockets before dumping a handful of coins into the box. “And I’ll leave you to make yours.” He tipped his hat to Taako.

“Thanks,” the dragonborn said sweetly.

“Merry Candlenights,” Magnus replied. He opened the door and gave one last farewell wave. “Merry Candlenights, Taako!”

“Get out!” Taako cried, standing up with such force that his desk drawers rattled. He could hear Magnus’ laugh through the closed door, all the way down the steps until it was lost in the hubbub of the street.

“So, sir,” The dragonborn turned back to him. “How much can I put you down for?”

“Nothing,” Taako said flatly.

“You want to be anonymous?”

“I want you to leave me the fuck alone,” he answered. “The government already forces me to pay taxes to fund welfare and homeless shelters. Asking me for money on top of that to hand out to freeloaders and stoners is practically larceny.”

“I don’t think that’s fair,” the dragonborn said, frowning for the first time. Taako thought it improved her looks. “There are economic circumstances that force people into poverty, and some who have children to feed would rather die than ask for-”

“If they’d rather die, then they should fucking do it,” Taako interrupted. “There’s too many people on this planet anyway.”

At this, the orc moved to storm towards Taako, but a hand on her arm stopped her. “Killian,” the dragonborn warned, shaking her head. The orc seemed to relax and they quickly left the office, but not before they sent one more look Taako’s way, the orc glaring and the dragonborn merely sad. He sighed as the door closed, finally rid of annoying visitors.

An hour later, Lucretia began packing up. Taako almost wanted to laugh. Every ten minutes or so, she’d try to look up at the clock on the wall without him noticing (he always noticed), hoping desperately for it to be seven o’ clock, and then getting very excited when the time finally came that she looked and it actually was seven o’ clock. He’d once moved the clock into the other room, the one filled with accounting books, hoping to thwart her, but she’d just ended up taking a trip in there twenty times a day claiming to be looking for a book she needed, so he’d moved it back. But there was nothing stopping him from putting it on the other wall, forcing her to crane her neck at a weird angle every time she wanted to look at it.

He stopped paying attention to her graceful, practiced dance around the office, slotting away files, closing blinds, dusting shelves, and finally shrugging on her coat and flinging a scarf around her neck. By the time he zoned back in, he jumped a little, as she was standing in front of his desk expectantly.

“What?”

“Could I have my wages, please?” He sighed and waved a hand, fifteen freshly-shined coins flying out of their drawer and dropping into her open palm. “Thank you.”

He grunted in response and went back to his papers. Soon, however, he heard a little cough, and looked up to see her still fidgeting in front of him. “Is there something else?”

She fiddled with the fraying end of her scarf. “Well, it’s candlenights tomorrow.”

“Yes, and?” He asked irritably.

“It is customary for employees to receive time off.” Her face was carefully expressionless.

“Really,” he deadpanned. “How much time off?” They did this dance every year, but it was getting less fun now that Lucretia was on to him. She knew he wouldn’t actually make her come in tomorrow. He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. Maybe he needed a new, fresh, more anxious employee. 

“The whole day,” she answered.

“And why should I give you a whole day’s wages for no work?”

“It’s only once a year.”

“Seems a poor excuse for picking my pocket every december twenty-fifth.” He looked up, but she was already out the door, a ‘goodnight, then’ tossed over her shoulder, leaving Taako alone and shivering with nothing but the small wisps of smoke from the remnants of their fire for company.

He packed up his things and locked up, heading home with his eyebrows in their usual place, furrowed angrily on his forehead.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hello, my love.”

Lucretia swung Angus up on her shoulder, tucking his crutches under her arm with practiced ease. His arms went around her neck, squeezing tight as they embraced. Finally they were off, practically skipping through the busy streets, past carol singers and buildings covered in lights. “What should we get for dinner tomorrow?” Angus’ eyes were bright, reflecting all the lights in the trees and shop windows.

“Well,” Lucretia started. “I think we’ll start with the biggest, plumpest goose in town. It’ll be the most delicious one in the mortal realm, just as good as the ones the gods will be eating.”

Angus laughed. “I don’t think Davenport’s skills are quite that refined.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” she whispered, a finger to her lips.


	2. Liches in the Living Room

Finally reaching his door, Taako stilled his hand on the knob as he reread the inscription scratched into it for what must have been the millionth time. He chuckled, remembering how they’d kept carving stupid shit into it until the paragraph almost reached the ground.

Lup, Taako, and Barry’s house  
No soliciting, we will cast magic missile on you  
And it automatically hits  
Motherfucker  
Friends can stay, but you’re on thin fucking ice  
Unless you have cookies  
Or alcohol  
Then the ice is thicc  
As fuck

This time, however, something was different. He jerked his hand back, giving a little yelp as he saw the knocker glow and twist into something resembling Lup’s face, distinguishable from his only by the septum piercing she’d been so excited to get when they were just barely one hundred, still teenagers. It quickly faded, and he blinked the ghost of the bright light from his eyes.

They were dead, he reminded himself. They were dead and he was a fool who had been staring at candles too much.

Settled in the parlor with a mug of hot tea, he closed his eyes, remembering that night.

_________________________________________________________________________

Normally, this would have been a strange sight.

Being liches, of course, meant that the fact that his sister and Barry were currently hovering, cloaked in red, in the middle of his parlor was not all that unusual.

“Been a while,” he said coolly. “Lup,” he nodded at the figures. “Barold.” He’d thought their latest adventure was supposed to last a few weeks longer, but he wasn’t about to complain about his sister coming home early.

Finally they raised their heads and he saw the matching spectral grins of his sister and her husband. “Nice to see you again, ‘Ko.” She let her hood fall back, revealing her skull face.

“Why are you back early?”

Barold’s face was somber, and Lup looked rather uncomfortable.

“We got reaped, ‘Ko.”

Taako’s wine glass made a loud crash as it shattered on the floor, no spells cast to try to catch it or even wipe the merlot that was seeping into the nearby rug.

“I’m going to kill him,” Taako rasped, tears already welling in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks, leaving behind rivers stained gray with mascara.

“He let us come say goodbye,” Lup placated. “He didn’t have to do that.”

“I know he’s immortal and somehow I’m going to kill him,” Taako tried to pretend he wasn’t crying. “And then I’m going to raise him from the dead and kill him again.”

“The deal was clear,” Barry tried. “We were fine while we were doing good, but…” He sighed. “We got sloppy, and careless, and greedy. His mom-”

Taako felt a pressure on his leg, looking down to see that he was manifesting black tentacles. He tried to calm down, but eventually he just burned them to ash in a flash of angry flames, leaving a black circle on the floor.

“Taako, I’m so sorry,” Lup’s voice was shaking, although her skull produced no tears. She tried to take his hand, only to make a pained noise when of course her hand passed right through him. “You can still save yourself, if you just go back to what we used to do-”

“I am never,” he gritted his teeth. “Helping anyone again. Why should I? I don’t care what happens to them,” he grew frantic. “I don’t care about anyone but you!”

“Taako, please, I-” Suddenly they were fading, Taako scrambling to try to grab their robes, their faces, anything to hold them there. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you,” he echoed, and then they were gone.

...

When he opened his eyes, they were in his living room again, this time not liches but instead misty, gray projections of how they were in their corporeal forms. He found it odd that he was not very surprised, and in fact the strongest emotion he had was the urge to laugh, for even in ghost form Barry was still wearing jeans.

“Lup.”

“Taako,” she beamed.

“You’re not real,” he said, finally realizing why he wasn’t overcome with shock and happiness. “I’m sick. Sick with grief and with cold and I’m imagining you. My brain is trying to comfort me and when I open my eyes again you’ll be gone.”

He shut his eyes tight, jumping when he opened them and saw Lup mere inches away from his face, transparent hands hovering over his flesh ones. “Dumbass,” she giggled. “We came to visit.”

Tears threatened to spill over his lashes. “I thought I’d never see you again.” Finally he turned to the other figure. “Hey, Barold.” He grinned as Barry gave him a wave.

“He gave us a vacation for good behavior, thought we’d drop by.”

Taako bristled. “Nice of him.”

“It was,” Lup insisted.

“If he wanted to be nice, he could have- oh, I don’t know,” Taako pretended to think. “Not killed you?”

“We were selfish, Koko, and you know it.” Lup frowned, and he was flooded with guilt. He didn’t want her to be sad. “You know what the deal was.” She waited for him to answer, filling in the gap when he refused. “We could continue to live like this as long as we helped people. It’s our own damn fault that we started using our powers to steal shit and make money instead.”

“I’m not going to start volunteering at a fucking soup kitchen just so I can get into heaven or whatever,” he spat. “News flash, Lup, okay? I’d rather be in hell with you than in heaven alone.” At this, she laughed and tried to hug him, their bodies occupying the same space as she passed through him.

“I told him you wouldn’t listen to reason,” Barry smiled, and Taako laughed. He was right. “There are three more people coming to try to convince you.”

Taako’s eyes narrowed, which pushed a few tears out over his carefully-smudged waterline. “Tell him if he wants to talk he can talk to my-”

“They’re his mother’s,” Barry corrected. “A candlenights present, I think.”

Lup turned back to Taako. “If you shape up, you’ll probably never see me again.” He sobbed, finally giving up on reigning in his tears. “And that’s how I want it. You deserve better, Taako.” Her eyes became serious, and he could see a faint echo of the fire that used to live inside her as she stared him down.

“Do better.”

Before he could promise anything, they were gone.

Alone in his house, he shouted at the sky, raging at a god that wasn’t listening.

“I’m only two hundred and fifty! I’m young! I’m hip!” He collapsed back into his chair, voice dropping to a whisper. “We were all so fucking young.”

And like the young, hip person he was, he cried himself to sleep.


	3. And What Am I Supposed to Do About That?

Taako awoke to a white light flooding his room, throwing back his bedcurtains and blinking furiously until his eyes focused. Standing in front of him was a dark-skinned woman whose clothes and hair radiated an intense white glow. It wasn’t unpleasant, but rather soft and gently glimmering, like starlight shining on fresh snow. Taako couldn’t quite pin down her race or facial features- every time he blinked her form seemed to shift, now short, now tall, now with six arms, now with bright hazel eyes and a warm smile and now with no face at all.

He mustered all his dignity and raised his voice, trying to sound important and commanding the way he did when he cast spells or ordered Lucretia around. “Spirit, why have you come here?”

“I have receipts,” a gentle voice seemed at once to boom through the room and come from inside Taako’s head, causing him to slap at one of his ears.

“Pardon?”

“I was told that is what the children say nowadays, when someone must be shown the error of their ways.” At Taako’s dumbstruck face, the color of her glow was tinged with gold. “Oh, well, nevermind. Rather, I have come in the interest of your welfare.”

“Lady, I’m faring pretty well already.”

“Your salvation, then.”

“Just what I need,” he rolled his eyes. “An evening spent plagued by the hellish, socialist dead.” He moved closer to her. “So what exactly are you going to show me?”

“I am the ghost of Candlenights past,” she said, amusement evident in her tone. The tone of her white glow had grown slightly warmer again, which Taako guessed must be her way of laughing. “So that is what we shall see.”

Suddenly Taako found himself in another room entirely, chairs and desks neatly lined up over scraped wooden floors, daylight creeping in through a few small windows. “It’s our old classroom.”

And then, as if on cue, two adorable elven kids came waltzing through the door- Taako inhaled as he recognized himself and Lup, just twenty years old and still a perfect matched set- Lup wouldn’t get her piercings or pink hair for another fifty years, and Taako was still dressing like a straight person, god help him. They had already picked up thieves’ cant, and their fingers danced in an animated conversation about going to visit their aunt for candlenights.

“Merry Christmas, Taako and Lup!” He chuckled as one of their human classmates presented the disinterested twins with identical candlenights cards. That’s how they’d always been, back then: a single aloof, daunting entity, Taako and Lup. He’d never begrudged Barold for stealing away some of her time- okay, sometimes he’d begrudged it- especially when he still had romantic options of his own, but god, he missed her.

He felt a rush of pain in his heart as he watched the twins ignore the poor human girl, so much younger than them and just trying to be friendly. He and Lup had always been so wary, unwilling to trust or befriend anyone- something that they’d always deemed necessary, that had allowed them to survive, but a small part of Taako had always wondered if it had taken its own toll on their lives and those of others. The human girl looked crushed. Their lives were so fleeting, insignificant to elves like them but still managing to be stuffed to the brim with importance. He thought of Magnus for some reason. How long had that girl been dead? He couldn’t even remember her name.

The scene went white before him, and suddenly young Taako was alone in the room, largely unchanged even though he knew that this memory took place several years later than the first. He watched himself cry silently, face carefully impassive even as fat tears rolled off his cheeks and stained the pages of his textbook. Their aunt had died a few years previously, so they had to stay at school over breaks- and Taako remembered with a pang that this year Lup wasn’t there either. She’d gotten in a fight over something stupid that Taako had long since forgotten, maybe involving a necklace inherited from their aunt, and was placed in jail for six months. Taako now thought of it as one of Lup’s shorter stints in prison, but this had been her first, and the first time since birth that they’d been apart.

“You wrote in your diary that day that you hated candlenights,” the ghost mentioned. “And you hated life.”

“Nosy,” Taako replied.

The glow turned gold again, and this time he giggled too, the laughter feeling good after the way his throat had been tightening with grief. “Let’s move on, yeah?” he suggested, and the ghost obliged.

Now they looked out over a small ballroom, warmed and dimly lit by many fireplaces and covered in shitty decorations. Couples were dancing feverishly on the hardwood, and making out under the mistletoe in dark corners. The band perhaps were more drunk than anyone, but it didn’t matter that they weren’t in tune because the bass was positively slapping, and there, in the center of it all, was-

“Garfield the Deals Warlock!” Taako cried. “Oh my god, I forgot about him. He threw the best fuckin’ parties.”

“What’s so great about this?” the ghost replied. “It couldn’t have cost more than a few gold. Not much of a sacrifice.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” Taako, too busy watching the festivities, didn’t notice the spirit grinning. She did know what he meant.

He passed over some of the boring people he’d worked with, wrinkling his nose when Garfield said something lecherous about joining him in the pocket spa. Finally, he spotted himself- god, he can’t believe Lup let him wear that horrible emerald suit- trying to talk Lup up to a very attractive orc woman. He hadn’t remembered being so tipsy that night, but watching himself now he had certainly been doing a piss-poor job of playing wingman- the orc was clearly trying not to laugh in his face. In fact, he saw now for the first time that his sister had one-upped him once again- there she was, talking to a tall, dark, handsome man and leading him over. 

Taako stopped watching himself. He remembered meeting Kravitz that night, had memorized the exact date- December twenty-second- and written it down in his calendar every year, remembered everything about him and what they did that first night, so instead his eyes followed his sister. He watched her smile at the couple from afar, flat-out grinning when Taako laughed and pressed a kiss to Kravitz’s cheek. He watched her give him some space, something Taako was starting to realize he’d never been mature enough to do.

He’d never thanked her. He’d never known.

The white glow took over Taako’s vision for barely a second, and when the new memory started Taako knew that exactly three years had passed. He also thought that he might throw up. He wondered what the rules were for projectile vomiting directly onto a ghost- did you offer up your shower after? A change of clothes?

“I’ve come to return this.”

Taako saw himself sitting behind his desk, looking up at the glittering engagement ring that Kravitz had placed on his scale. Despite the size of the enormous, garishly pink thing, it hadn’t moved the two pounds, sixpence that sat on the other side of the scale one bit.

“Don’t you like it?” Taako’s voice was breezy. “We can get you something bigger.”

Past Taako hadn’t bothered to look up, so it was for the first time that present Taako noticed how horrified the reaper looked. “Oh god, no, it’s-” Kravitz sighed. “Taako, it’s not about that.”

He continued when Taako refused to ask what it was about. “Taako, you and your sister promised that you’d use your powers to help people.” He gestured at the desk covered in coins of various metals. “Now you’re just being cruel.”

“Krav, I don’t see anything wrong with making a little money on the side.” Taako finally got up from his seat, coming to caress Kravitz’s face. “I know I haven’t been making enough time for you lately.” He grinned, and present Taako blushed to see how much genuine affection came through in his expression. “How about tonight I buy you dinner, just the two of us?”

“This isn’t just about us,” Kravitz insisted, pulling out of Taako’s embrace. “Taako, I swear if you and your sister don’t shape up, the fate of your souls is going to be out of my hands.” Without realizing, he’d been letting his emotion intensify, literally causing the feathers on his cloak to bristle like an angry cat. Taako was slowly backing toward the wall, cowering at Kravitz’s anger.

“Oh, good, I love being threatened by my significant other,” Taako tried to sound sarcastic through the tears he held back. “That’s totally cool and not something that has ever traumatized me.”

“I’m sorry.” Kravitz immediately settled his face into something calmer, smoothing his feathers out, making himself less imposing. “Whatever happened to helping other people, Taako?”

“I hate other people,” Taako sniffed. “I only like you.”

“You have my stone of farspeech frequency,” Kravitz said gently. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“Come back when you’re ready to behave like an adult,” he watched himself say petulantly. Then Kravitz was just gone, a portal closing up where he’d been standing.

“He never came back,” the ghost said.

“Nobody asked you,” Taako said acidly. After a pause, he sniffled. “I’d like to go home now.” But by the time he was finished speaking, they were already there. “Oh.”

“How are you feeling?”

Taako snorted. “Are we a doing a “what I learned today” segment?” He busied himself with fixing the sheets that had tumbled off his bed when he’d been startled awake. “I learned that I was right to try to black out all that shit, and now I have to start all over.”

This time there was no gold tinge to the glow surrounding her. He supposed the joke had been a bit harsh in tone. “Well, then,” she started. “I will take my leave. I’m sure you’ll see the next spirit very soon.”

“Bye, then, um.” Taako paused awkwardly. “Ghost person.”

“My name is Istus,” she smiled, but her glow had a sad blue tinge. Taako didn’t know whether it had actually gotten colder or if he had just imagined it. “Not that you ever asked.”

Before Taako could figure out that the pain settling in his chest and burning his cheeks was shame, she was gone.


	4. Salt Where Sugar Would Better Be

It was just two, and Taako was roused from his meditation- he figured he’d get the short rests in where he could tonight- by the tinkling of sleigh bells and a “ho, ho ho!”

It could only be-

“Santa?” Taako ventured.

The figure gave a booming laugh. “Fuck no!”

“Right,” Taako cringed. “Stupid.”

“I am the ghost of Candlenights presents!” The man cried in a voice that rasped and seemed to come from his very bones and strangely had a hint of a surfer accent. “Or something like that. I forgot what she told me to say.” He shook his head, refocusing. “Come here and know me better, man.”

Closer now, Taako could see that he looked less like Santa and more like Jimmy Buffet. He held a margarita glass with a gingerbread man sticking out of some dark alcohol, and vines of holly were snaking around his limbs, ducking into the hawaiian shirt he wore open over his bare, thick-haired chest and growing in sprouts out of his bushy white beard. Seeing all that white, suddenly a rush of remembered guilt forced a question to the front of his mind. “You uh… you got a name, my dude?”

The figure laughed again, a thing so warm and infectious that this time Taako smiled too. “I’m Merle Highchurch.” Now he leaned in closer to Taako, as if to share a lovely secret. Taako had seen the same look on people’s faces when they bought presents for their friends and quickly hid them in their pockets, their loved ones none the wiser. “Istus got to you about politeness, huh? She’s real motherly like that.” He winked conspiratorially. “She’ll make you feel just like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”

Taako snorted. “So what are you, like, the cool uncle?”

Merle slid his glasses a little ways down his nose, giving Taako a suggestive look over the tops of the frames. He held his glass out for Taako to take. “Does this answer your question?”

Taako took a sip, swishing it around thoughtfully before swallowing. “No,” he finally said. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“It’s a mulled wine margarita!” Merle’s face turned pink with outrage, and Taako noticed that several of the vines looping his arms pointed outward like harpoons.

Taako held out a hand, trying to keep things calm and stop razor-sharp holly from shooting toward his face. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, pal, I’m not trying to roast you or nothin’.” He handed the glass back. “I had a spell go wrong a long time ago, and now anytime I drink a liquid it just tastes like key lime gogurt.”

“Oh,” Merle smiled, clearly placated. “Well, that’s nothing a little magic can’t solve.” He sat up straighter and focused on the cup, deepening his voice. “I cast dispel magic!” He wiggled his fingers at the cup, but nothing happened. “Damn,” he said. “Guess I don’t have that one.”

“Ah, well,” he continued, casually tossing the entire glass and its contents behind him. Taako’s ears flicked upward in horror as it shattered, soaking the floor in dark wine. That was never, ever coming out. “Let’s go!”

Merle took Taako’s arm, and suddenly they were in a bustling room in a well-built, cozy little house. Taako withdrew into an unoccupied corner on instinct, difficult because many of the darker spaces were filled with couples, who were all doing exactly what you’d expect with mistletoe and warm brandy. Finally, his eyes landed on someone he knew- Magnus, and his annoyingly cheerful wife, Julia.

“Let’s play a game!” People agreed with her, as they usually did, and soon a group had gathered around some couches and chairs. “How about twenty questions,” she continued. The crowd murmured their assent and she clapped her hands together. “Great!” 

“Jules, you think of something,” Magnus placed his arm around her.

“Got it,” she said after a few seconds.

He smiled. “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“Animal.”

Avi piped up. “Is it a person?”

“Yes!”

“Are they in this room?” Taako didn’t miss the too-casual glance at Avi that Johann made as he asked his question.

“No.”

The game continued, N0-3113 earning a round of hoots and hollers for her question, in the form of a very rude joke about the raven queen’s mom.

“I’ve got it!” Sloane’s hand shot up in the air, just as the remaining questions were dwindling to two or three. “An unwanted person, who is not in this room, but we know their name even though they’re not famous-” she paused, waiting to see if anyone else had realized. Finally she shouted the answer. “It’s Taako!”

The room erupted in laughter. Taako bit his lip.

“You good there, buddy?” Taako looked over to see Merle looking at him with a strange expression on his face. He was smiling, but sad at the same time. Taako rolled his eyes, determined not to let this weird little man see him display any emotion. It’s not as if he actually cared.

“Doing just fine, Marvin,” he said coolly.

Merle laughed heartily. “Pretending to forget someone’s name,” he chuckled. “She said that was a classic Taako move.”

Taako huffed. He hated being called out. Then his brow furrowed, finally rolling above a ten on a perception check. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned this ‘she.’ Who are you talking about?”

“That’d be telling,” Merle said lightly, waggling his eyebrows. Taako huffed, but ultimately didn’t care enough to press him.

“Now, Jules,” Magnus fiddled with his bowtie, as he often did when he was uneasy. “That’s not entirely fair.”

“Oh, Magnus, he’s a horrible, stingy little twink and you know it.” She leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t always have to be so nice.”

Magnus grew pink. “It’s candlenights,” he whined. “And I like being nice.”

Julia laughed. “I like it when you’re nice,” she said warmly, and then they were kissing, nearby friends booing and throwing popcorn at them in attempt to get them to stop being gross.

Taako felt a familiar emotion turn his face dark. Jealousy. Disgusted, he turned to Merle. “Can we move on? This is getting very PG-13.”

Merle started to laugh, and by the time he was finished they were standing in a dingy little street the likes of which Taako had only seen when collecting rent or posting eviction notices. He’d tried to give the job to Lucretia, the joy of seeing people’s hopes dashed not quite enough to warrant all that walking, but she’d flat-out refused. She didn’t often do that, so he left it alone. His nose wrinkled up on instinct. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ve never seen where Lucretia lives, have you?”

Oh, that was why. Taako supposed it must be terribly awkward collecting rent from your neighbors. He looked at the chipped red paint on her front door, and the scraggly little wreath that hung from it, matching the chipped paint and scraggly wreaths of all the other doors on the block. Terribly awkward.

They leaned in the window, and Taako saw a gnome man with an impressive mustache bustling around a kitchen, weaving through four kids. He hadn’t known Lucretia had children. He wondered, too, whether Merle had cast Clairvoyance, because the next thing he knew he could hear them all perfectly.

Within seconds, he’d learned that the children were named Mavis, Mookie, June, and Keats, the names being called out rapidly as the gnome shouted orders, sergeant-like, for them to chop this or drain that. Taako itched to give advice, especially when the one called Mookie decided that merely cutting the garlic cloves in half was just as good as dicing them. Then Keats, who looked to be just six, attempted to help by picking up the salt shaker.

“Oh, shit,” Taako muttered, enthralled.

The kid made his way over to where the gnome, who the kids strangely seemed to address as “Dadenport,” had just instructed Mavis to measure the sugar for the pie filling. She was unaware of the approaching disaster, head still buried in the drawer as she searched for the measuring cups that were actually on the counter behind her.

“Oh my god,” Taako breathed. “Mavis. Behind you, dude.”

Keats reached up and felt around the counter, unable to see that high. Finally his little hand settled on the measuring cups, and he pulled them down.

“No! No! That’s not sugar!” Taako was yelling now, tapping on the window with a manicured nail. “Stop him!” No one heard him. As Keats poured salt into the measuring cup, some overflowing onto the floor, Taako frantically tried to transmute it into sugar, but there was no telltale flash of pink. He was helpless as Keats reached up to dump the salt in.

“Your corporeal form is still in bed,” Merle explained. “Can’t do magic.”

“Yes, thank you,” Taako said curtly. Finally he let out a relaxed breath as the one called Dadenport turned around as if he had eyes in the back of his head, lifting the cup out of Keats’ hand just in time. “Oh, thank god,” Taako sighed. Out of reflex, he reached out and gripped Merle’s shoulder. “Life is so wonderful sometimes.”

“Dramatic,” Merle snorted. “She said you would be.”

Taako barely heard him, ears twitching in utter confusion as he watched Dadenport, rather than scold the kid, pick him up in a hug, planting a kiss on his forehead. Then he was reeling again as suddenly they were standing inside the busy room, watching from a currently unoccupied corner. Taako had a feeling that would change with the way the inhabitants were running around, narrowly avoiding crashing into furniture or each other. He watched the door fly open, and in walked Lucretia looking the happiest Taako had ever seen her. She had holly strewn throughout her white hair, and atop her shoulders rested- oh my god, was that another kid? How many were there? He had a sudden urge to check inside the cupboards, sure that there was an endless supply of children just waiting to be unleashed upon the already overstuffed household.

Taako took in the kid’s big dumb nerdy glasses, wild curly hair, and set of crutches as he was lowered into a stool close to the fire. Polio, maybe? He was sure there was a spell to cure that. Maybe Lucretia didn’t know it- or maybe his ankle was just sprained. After all, the kid was smiling way too much for it to be anything serious.

“Hello, kids.” Lucretia greeted them all with hugs. “Davenport.” 

“How was Angus?” Davenport- ah, that made more sense- turned back to his rolling pin.

“An angel, as usual,” Lucretia said. Taako saw them glance at Angus out of the corners of their eyes, and once he was busy talking to the other kids they slipped into thieves’ cant, natural as anything. ‘A lot of coughing,’ she signed quickly. ‘His leg seemed okay, but-’

‘You’d never know,’ Davenport finished her sentence. ‘We have another healing appointment on the tenth.’

‘I’ll get the money somehow,’ Taako saw her sigh. ‘We still have some of the kids’ christening gowns we can sell-’

And then they just stopped, completely in unison but seemingly at random. Taako was confused until his gaze settled on Angus, who was looking between the adults with such intensity that Taako could actually see the gears turning in his little brain.

“Can I help with something?” Angus’ voice was a little too innocent, and Taako’s elven ears caught the sound of Davenport cursing under his breath.

Lucretia began to stutter, clearly looking around for a job that would make Angus feel included but not require him to stand up. Angus and Taako watched Lucretia panic with similar expressions on their face, equal parts seeing through her bullshit and bitter disappointment that she felt the bullshit necessary or even effective. “Here, darling, could you fold the napkins?” She finally relaxed, setting a basket full of rumpled, faded emerald cloth napkins gently in his lap.

Taako winced. Napkin-folding. The ultimate insult. To be given an even more fake-helpful job than Keats was high-key, heavily embarrassing. The kid took it in stride, though, so to speak, cheerfully refolding all the napkins. When he got to the last one, he gave a furtive glance from side to side. Finding that neither of his parents were looking, he focused hard on the napkin, going all squinty, and cast prestidigitation to turn it royal blue- the exact shade of Lucretia’s worn cloak. Taako was impressed until the glow of Angus’ skin that so often came magic faded and the boy slumped over, pale and glassy-eyed and barely able to stay conscious. The blue napkin fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Taako bit his lip. Deffo not just a sprained ankle, then, if even a cantrip could take it out of him like that. “Merle, do you know what he has?”

“A pretty bad case of no money, it seems.” Merle’s face was somber, so Taako knew it wasn’t really a joke. He was mad anyway.

“Is he going to die?”

“Maybe,” Merle shrugged. “There’s too many people on the planet anyway.”

That clinched it. Taako was definitely going to throw up.


	5. Cut

Merle had whisked him back to the street outside Lucretia’s house, and they’d said a few curt goodbyes. Taako squashed his urge to apologize, figuring the ghost was just tired. It would explain why he seemed to grow cold, why his face was so much more pale and sad than it had been an hour before.

Then he was alone, and then, just as quickly, he wasn’t anymore.

Finally, a figure he recognized. He would have been comforted for a moment if he wasn’t cold down to his very bones from terror.

The Raven Queen stood, impassive, her black, motheaten skirts starting to frost at the worn edges. He’d never been sure whether she wore a mask or her face just was a raven’s skull, but now the hood of her feathered cloak was pushed back, revealing hair like oil under the moonlight and a dark ribbon securing the mask to her head. “Well at least we solved a mystery,” he mumbled, voice distinctly higher than he would have liked. 

Rather than feeling relieved, Taako wondered why she wore it all the time, what lay underneath that could be more terrifying than the mask.

At her silence, he spoke up. “Can’t he do anything without getting Mommy involved?”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” he tried.

She stepped back, pointing back towards Lucretia’s house, and everything looked a little different- he assumed they were a year in the future. This year, somehow, the wreath on their door looked even worse than the last one. 

Again, he found himself suddenly inside the house, but something was different. Taako couldn’t put his bony finger on it- just as before, Dadenport was there, the kids were milling around making dinner, and the little room was still shabby and crowded. 

Then it hit him. It was quiet.

Nobody was making a sound. Little Keats was dutifully mixing- Taako guessed he had been banned from adding ingredients after the near miss last candlenights- and was overworking the dough, his eyes vacant as he stirred mechanically. Mavis chopped hazelnuts, the sound loud in the silent room, looking as though she was imagining chopping someone’s head off each time the knife came down. Not even Mookie was crashing around or laughing, and there, over the stove- Taako’s eyebrows shot up as he saw Dadenport crying.

“What happened?”

The Raven Queen didn’t reply, and Taako pulled his fingernail out of his mouth, looking at the new chips on his polish. He’d been biting it without noticing.

When he’d turned around, the children had noticed their father crying too- and there went poor June. Davenport whirled around at her cry, sounding very like the bitterns that used to frequent the marshes of New Elfington, and pressed her to his chest, kissing her hair as she sobbed. Mavis turned away and busied herself with the mixing bowl, taking it from Keats and finally pouring it into a pan, shoving it into the oven and slamming the door shut before sinking into a chair, head in hands.

Taako couldn’t fathom what could have happened to ruin their candlenights. He turned to the Raven Queen, but before he could ask she simply lifted her hand toward the door. He didn’t have to wait very long before it opened, Lucretia sliding through a small gap rather than opening it all the way. Looking at her, Taako wondered if she even had the strength to push it open all the way. She had always been somber, but now she looked- there were few words harsh enough to describe it. ‘Destroyed,’ Taako’s mind suggested. Her eyes were dull and half-open, the circles underneath them dark against her pale cheeks. 

But the most shocking change of all was her hair. Taako had always been jealous of it, wavy and pure white and brushing past her hips as it was, though he’d never admit it. Now it was cut short, and Taako was hit with a jolt of fear as he remembered something she’d mentioned in passing years ago, when Taako had been asking about her hair, digging for any hints on how he could magically copy it.

“We never cut our hair,” she’d said of her particular type of human. “Not even a trim. It belongs to our ancestors, to our families.” Smiling, she’d twisted a piece of it between her fingers- Taako knew now she must’ve been thinking of her children. “We only cut it when somebody dies.”

When somebody dies.

He was wrong.

The biggest change was that she was alone.

“Not Ango.” He looked around for the child, but there was no crutch leaning against the mantlepiece, no smiles or laughter coming from Lucretia’s shoulder. He turned back to the family, his hair flying outward with the speed of it. Lucretia was just taking Davenport’s hand, the other going to June’s shoulder. Underneath her blue robes she was dressed in black.

“Not Ango,” Taako felt his chest with his hand, but there was no gaping hole, no wound, no trace of an offensive spell. Just the feeling of it, then. He blinked away his tears. 

Just the feeling of it.

Then the scene dissolved before him, and he was thankful for the darkness that now hid his tears, though the Queen probably sensed them anyway.

There were Lup and Barry. Yuck. The astral plane looked… squishier than he’d thought. The ends of Lup’s long hair were covered in muck where they trailed on the ground.

“I just want him to be happy,” Lup was saying, her face tucked into Barry’s shoulder.

“He has to move on.” She was frowning. He always hated that. “He has to help people.”

“I will,” he breathed. “Lup, I will. I promise.” Suddenly, illogically, it seemed like the most important thing in the world that she hear him. “Lup!” He was shouting, his wish to appear calm and collected in front of the Queen forgotten. “Lup!”


	6. To Improve One's Performance

“Lup!”

Taako sat up in bed, hair falling in his eyes and flying into his mouth as he gasped for breath.

Brushing right past the mirror where he usually spent two full hours every morning admiring himself, he registered in some distant part of his mind that his hair looked insane- but he didn’t have time for that right now. Rushing to his window, he looked outside and saw the snow on the ground. It was still this year! It was still today! And Ango was still alive. There was still time.

He threw on a dress that he picked up off the floor, tugging on some boots and throwing on a random scarf and coat before rushing downstairs- again, noting how insane he looked in his outfit as he passed the mirror- and dumping an entire drawer of gold into his pockets before running out the door. Vaguely he remembered having an ‘absolutely-not-no-never’ stance on running, but by the time he’d pulled out his stone of farspeech the thought was gone.

Dialing the number of his old university- they owed him a favor after he’d bought them a new library, and they had the best healers he knew- he felt a familiar stab of hatred. He hated caring about stuff, and he now cared about Ango more than he could remember caring about anything. That shit sucked. It was the reason he’d stopped getting attached to humans in the first place- what would he do when Angus inevitably bit it? 

Strangely, the thought made him laugh. Who cared? Honestly- Angus was alive right now. There was something he could do to help him right now. He’d burn that bridge when they got to it.

As he talked to his old dean about setting up appointments- “of course, Taako, it’s been too long. Absolutely, don’t worry about the cost. Yes, we can cure that in a jiffy. I can take steps to set up that non-profit for you.”- he stomped through the snow, smiling at the cold seeping into his leggings. Whenever he saw somebody, he reached into the pocket of his coat and threw a fistful of coins at them, not bothering to check whether they were rich or poor. They didn’t seem to mind when he accidentally hit them in the face, but he apologized every time just in case.

At last, he’d reached the shops, and after wrapping up his conversation he headed into the butcher’s shop. The shopkeeper trembled at the sight of him, and Taako almost laughed as he suddenly realized that the man- Paul? Jareth?- was two months behind on his rent payments to Taako. 

“Remind me of your name,” Taako leaned forward on the counter, his voice soft.

“Jim,” he squeaked.

“Jim.” Suddenly Taako grinned, his cheeks sore with the unusual movement. “First of all, you can forget about the rent. Consider us even, and we’ll re-negotiate rent in January- because just between us, this place is a little overpriced currently. A little candlenights present.”

His eyes went wide.

“Now, I’m going to need, um…” He never was good at math, but all the obsessive counting had helped a little- and his chef skills helped even more. “Let’s see, for seven people….” He continued listing off portions as Jim boxed a huge turkey, sausages, and meat pies for him, quietly panicking the whole time. Taako bid him thank you and headed next door, dumping two fistfuls of coins into the pockets of a nearby gang of street urchins- whose names he learned were Lydia, Edward, Lucas, and Jenkins- in return for their help in carrying the massive amount of stuff he was going to need.

The next shops went in much the same manner. He walked in, tried to calm the owner down, forgave their rent or debts or promised to lessen their costs or whatever, bought half their inventory, and walked away. By the time Taako got to the last shop- the most important one- Marta, the toymaker, was staring at him with apprehension and, frankly, a little concern. She had a stone of farspeech in her open palm, and Taako surmised that she’d just been warned of his approach by another stunned merchant.

“Hullo, Marta.” He grinned. “Happy Candlenights.”

“Taako,” she nodded in greeting. There was a short silence, then: “are you alright?”

“Of course!” He leaned forward conspiratorially. This ‘getting along with people’ schtick was proving to be more fun than he remembered. “Out of interest, why do you ask?”

"Well," she started, careful. "You're not acting like yourself."

"So, like a huge douchebag."

She snorted. "Well, I wasn't going to say it."

"I'm going to be a small douchebag from now on." He smiled when she gave a genuine laugh. "Now I'm gonna need, like," he considered the store and all the kids he wanted to give presents to. "All of your fuckin' toys." She blinked in surprise, so he attempted to rephrase. “Like, the whole thing.”

And he did buy literally the entire shop. He ended up having to hire a veritable army of street youths- luckily they just kept coming out of the alleys, an endless supply of tiny arms- and when Marta's shop was bare except for a huge pile of gold coins, he wished her a happy candlenights one more time and strutted toward the rest of his errands.

 

___________________________________________________________________

“Magnus!” Taako hugged him as soon as they threw open the door, the large man solid as a rock even when startled. He moved on to Julia, giving her a gentler embrace and a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Candlenights.”

They stood dumbfounded until Magnus finally gathered his wits. “What?”

Taako laughed and handed them their presents. “I just came to give you these, and to tell you that I’d be delighted to attend your candlenights party. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Great,” Julia finally said, after more silence. “See you at six.”

As they watched him jog merrily away, Julia leaned into Magnus. “He’s gone insane,” she whispered.

“Yep,” he answered. More silence.

“It’s about time,” she finally declared, pulling her confused husband back into the warm house.

_______________________________________________________________

“Lucretia,”

“Yes, Taako?”

“We need to talk about your work performance.”

Taako tried not to break character when he looked at her hair and saw that it was still long, relief pouring through him and forcing his bones toward the floor.

Her eyebrows pressed together. “My work performance?”

“Yes,” he said, trying to emulate the haughty voice he’d been practicing for decades. “While it is excellent, this one day off a year you are taking is unacceptable.”

It was quiet. Taako tried not to laugh.

“It is far too little time, and for far too little pay for your work. So I’m afraid-” he paused dramatically, arching an eyebrow. “I’m going to have to triple your salary,”

“Mr. Taako, I’m afraid I have no choice but to give you a piece of my mind!” Davenport managed to look quite threatening from so many feet below Taako. He almost laughed. 

“Davenport,” Lucretia warned.

“You keep her locked up in a horrible freezing office for pennies a day, and-” Suddenly he fell silent, his face ashen. “Triple?”

“Yes, triple it. It’s the least you deserve.”

Finally the news settled in, and Lucretia and Davenport were silent.

Taako took pity on them and launched into his explanation. “I have been a complete and total dick for basically my entire adult life, and I’m not doing that anymore.” Taako handed over the file he’d made that morning. “I’ve also paid the mortgage on your house, reserved spaces and provided tuition for all your children at the finest schools, and,” he grinned, opening the file for Lucretia as she stood, speechless and hands unmoving. 

“If you look on the very top, I’ve made appointments with the best doctors in Faerun. We’re going to get Ango all better.” He looked down at the smiling child. “That cool with you, kiddo?”

“Thank you, sir!” The kid was leaning on his crutch like he was about to pass out, so Taako conjured up a little chair and gingerly pushed him into it.

“Also,” he picked up the pace now, tucking Angus securely into the chair and leanign his crutch on the arm. “the rent for this entire neighborhood is cut in half, and someone’s actually going to come fix all the stuff people have been bitching about-” Taako plowed through, ignoring Lucretia’s raised eyebrow. “Not me, of course, ‘chaboy’s gonna hire somebody.” He stretched his long nails out in front of him, checking for chips with a haughty expression. “I’m not a total dweeb.” She laughed, and he giggled too.

Then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, ready to tell the urchins that they could leave now-

And there was his sister, face no longer a skull, but exactly how she looked when she was alive.

“Lup?”

“Taako!”

There was his sister, as corporeal as she’d been a hundred years ago. He touched her hand. Solid and warm. He pulled her into a hug, swinging her around until they both fell into the snow, Barry standing over them. Barry was laughing a little too hard, so Taako and Lup reached up and yanked him down with them. He gave minimal complaint as he snuggled into them, and when they all clambered back up, Taako was gushing. “I missed you. I missed doing stupid shit like that.”

“We missed you too,” Barry said, speaking for Lup, who was too busy crying.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?”

“The Raven Queen said if we all got better, we’d get parole! You were the only stone left unturned, you selfish bitch.” Lup’s ecstatic grin contradicted her words, and she spun Taako around before setting him down. 

“Ugh, way too strong.” He brushed himself off, wincing slightly as his fragile fingers brushed against the fresh bruises left by her immense, undead strength. “Freak.”

“Also, you are acting crazy.” Lup crossed her arms, but she was still smiling. “You gave that butcher a panic attack! Nobody said you had to fix all your mistakes in one morning.”

“You’re one to talk,” he eyed her up and down. “What’s with the feathers?”

“We’re reapers now!” She was shouting at this point, jabbing the air with her scythe for emphasis. “Isn’t that cool?”

“So we’ll be over a lot more often,” Barry smiled.

Taako shrieked with joy and tackled both of them again.

“Isn’t Istus a scream?” Lup’s skin was cold now, and Taako missed the way her fire used to heat the air around her, melting snow and turning mist to steam. But she was here now, and that was better than anything she used to be. She lowered her voice until she was barely breathing, switching to elvish as she leaned into his ear. “I have tea about her and the Queen, but I’ll have to tell you that later.”

“Reapers,” Taako chuckled. “Never thought you’d become a cop, Lu.”

But she was distracted, staring at something behind him that made her break out into a grin. “Speak of the devil.”

Taako turned around, peeling himself off of Lup and Barry, and there was Kravitz, stone-faced but in his corporeal form, trailed by a few of his crows. He was thankful- it was hard to tell what he was feeling when his face was a skull.

“Not quite the devil,” he remarked. 

Taako might have laughed if all the air hadn’t just flipped the bird to his lungs and left. “I, uh,” Taako braided and unbraided a strand of his hair, a nervous habit he’d never had reason to shake. “Might have yelled at your mom earlier.”

“She’s heard worse.”

“That’s probably true.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Did you plan all this?” 

“Lup planned most of it.” Taako looked back at Lup to help him get through this conversation, only to see that she and Barold had withdrawn into a corner and were giggling furiously. Traitors. “I just… facilitated.”

“Thank you.”

Kravitz looked taken aback for the first time, and Taako almost wanted to laugh. He’d missed that dopey face. “What?”

“Thank you,” Taako repeated earnestly. “For, I don’t know how to phrase it- pulling my head out of my ass, I guess.”

Kravitz smiled, still unable to hold a stern face around Taako, even after all these years. “It was impressively far up there.”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for not treating you better,” Taako admitted. “I want to make it up to you, but-” He looked around for inspiration, plucking a forgotten rag doll from the snow. “You don’t happen to need a doll, do you?

Kravitz chuckled. “No.”

Taako was stumped. What do you do for a person who has everything, and is also immortal and undead? Take them to Fantasy Pottery Barn?

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Do you need, like, a ride to the airport or something?” Kravitz nearly doubled over in laughter, and Taako slammed a hand against his forehead, embarrassed. “Right, magic portal scythe. Stupid.”

Kravitz walked closer, his hands moving to push Taako’s hair behind his ear just like he used to, as if it had only been a day since they’d seen each other last, as if everything was as it used to be. Taako held his breath, not daring a single movement. 

“How about you take me to dinner,” Kravitz said, the words not really a question. That was okay. Taako wasn’t about to argue.

And then they were kissing, and it was so, so cold and so, so nice.

When Kravitz pulled back, he found a ring on his finger. This time not a gaudy diamond, like something Taako would wear, like the last one he’d received, but a ring of pure glistening black. It was carved intricately in the shape of black feathers intertwining, every so often accented with gold.

“I thought it’d be better than the last one,” Taako said sheepishly, tucking a ring box back in his pocket. “Too soon?”

“It’s beautiful,” Kravitz breathed. “When did you get this?”

“I don’t know, ten years ago?” Taako stopped at the big smile on Kravitz’s face. “What?”

“You were still thinking about me.” Kravitz teased. “After all that time.”

Taako frowned. “It was a moment of weakness!”

Kravitz poked him. “And you carry it around with you?” He was looking downright mischievous now, Taako squirming uncomfortably. ”You’re a big sap.”

“I’m starting to reconsider this whole ‘being nice’ thing now,” Taako narrowed his eyes. “Go away.”

Then Kravitz was laughing, and Taako was laughing, and Lup was leaning into him, all warmth and solid flesh, and then Taako was pulling Angus up in a hug. And for the first time in a long time, Taako told himself the truth. 

Everything actually was perfectly fine.


End file.
